


Why Sarkan Hates Solya

by SunflowerRose22



Category: Uprooted - Naomi Novik
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Dubious Consent, Hate Sex, I don't really ship them but I like their, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multiple Orgasms, Pre-Canon, Probably a couple years before Sarkan started seeing Ludmilla, What Have I Done, Why is this the first
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-13 21:47:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16900404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunflowerRose22/pseuds/SunflowerRose22
Summary: Solya is in a tighter spot than usual and grudgingly finds himself needing Sarkan’s help to overcoming this sticky situation. Or rather, he needs Sarkan’s mouth.





	Why Sarkan Hates Solya

**Author's Note:**

> I like writing Solya with a sharp, blunt tongue when he is around people he doesn’t care to impress. I bet that can get him into trouble.  
> Also note that there is dubious consent in this as Sarkan isn’t fully on board with what Solya is doing but doesn’t feel like he has a reason to say no.  
> Edit* I switched the tags from non-con to dub-con because a friend reminded me that was a thing. I can't believe I forgot the name of the tag... Whoops.

   As far as Sarkan was concerned any encounter with Solya outside of the court guaranteed misfortune. There wasn’t anything in particular he held against the older wizard; rather it seemed Solya couldn’t stand Sarkan in the least and always made a point to ridicule the court’s favorite prodigy. So a mutual distaste was fostered in Sarkan and he prefered to avoid any hassle that came with an encounter all together. Thus when Sarkan came across Solya leaning heavily against the wall of hall near the royal library and looking quite flushed, he stood apart and contemplated whether he could justify turning tail and leaving.  

   Alas, when Sarkan finally came to the conclusion that yes, he could abandon the older wizard to his plight, Solya happened to look up. He called out to him. Reluctantly Sarkan came closer.

   Solya really wasn’t looking well. He appeared more rugged than usual– his short blond hair that he usually slicked back was ruffled, his fine silken tunic appeared rumpled, and his pale face was an unusually deep red. 

   “I need your help,” Solya stated rather firmly before Sarkan could ask. Taking the younger wizard by the wrist, Solya dragged Sarkan into the closest closet. Naturally it was dark there so Sarkan formed a ball of light that bounced around the fairly well sized closet, casting long shadows over the buckets, bed linens, brooms, wooden crates, and various other tools of the maids. While Sarkan didn’t outright protest being dragged around, due to the stress that hinged in Solya’s voice, he watched him warily as Solya leaned against the closed closet door, spent. Perhaps he wanted privacy for whatever misfortune he was about to reveal.  

   “Well?” Sarkan asked, interrupting the silence that fell over them save Solya’s labored breathing. 

   “I need your mouth,” Solya said, cutting straight to the point. He vaguely gestured to the tent straining against the rise of his trousers, one that Sarkan had somehow failed to notice. 

   Sarkan recoiled against the far wall. “Absolutely not,” he snapped. 

   “You can’t just leave me like this,” Solya said rather desperately, “The hag will kill me if she finds out I biffed her potions.”

   “You stole from Gale?” Sarkan couldn’t tell if he wanted to laugh or be utterly horrified. Alosha had made it clear to Sarkan from his early days that, above all else, never mess with the Wren. Despite the lightheartedness of her name, she had a rather unhealthy dose of vindictiveness in her blood. For one, she enchanted the corks off all of her potions with rather powerful aphrodisiacs; not to deter theft but rather so she could find the thief later. Sarkan winced, recalling the fate of the last apprentice who crossed her. Maybe Solya was a bit of a prick at, well, at all times but no one deserved that humiliation.  

   “Why were you stealing from her?” Sarkan wondered aloud.

   “It doesn’t matter right now,” Solya huffed, “Just help me ease of some of the tension.”

   “You’re going to try to walk it off,” Sarkan concluded rather doubtfully before he eyed up Solya again, hesitant. “Don’t you have a countess you can crawl to?”

   “Please, Gale’s probably turning over all our bedrooms as we speak.”

   Finding nothing else to dispute and no good reason to say no, Sarkan reluctantly got down on his knees. Solya hummed in relief as Sarkan undid the ties of his pants, his erection rising to its full height. Sarkan glared up at Solya one last time.  

   “You owe me big time,” he said before taking Solya into his mouth. 

   Admittedly, Sarkan didn’t know a single thing about pleasing a male with his mouth. Of the few fleeting male lovers he had, mostly proper nobles or generals rather than soldiers or common men, they had never asked for him to. He’d received his fair share of this, certainly. But he didn’t really know how the ladies of the court were able to make him melt in their hands each time. He waggled his tongue with no real direction or rhythm, trying to formulate how he should move around the girth of Solya. Fortunately, it didn’t seem like Solya needed much skill to feel something; his weight shifting as he leaned heavily on the door, occasionally sliding down it ever so slightly. Stifled exclamations of approval tumbled from Solya between gulps of air.  

   Just when Sarkan thought he was getting the hang of it, running his tongue in circles at the base of the crown, Solya’s hands dug into his hair. He shoved his dick into Sarkan’s throat. Sarkan gagged, immediately shoving himself away from Solya and coughing on seed. 

   When Sarkan could take a breath without coughing, he threw a glare at Solya and was fully prepared to give the older wizard a piece of his mind on proper bed etiquette. Only to feel his nerves frazzle at the sight of Solya’s erection still rigid despite the lingering orgasm running through the wizard. 

   Solya swore softly. “Sarkan,” he said pitifully.

   “No,” Sarkan responded sternly, his throat still stinging with every swallow. 

   “Come on now.”

   “Use your hand,” Sarkan retorted. 

   “It doesn’t work,” Solya complained, playing up the pity in his voice. 

   Sarkan glared at him in sullen silence before sighing and coming back over. Putting his hands on either side of Solya, ignoring the satisfied purr from the older wizard, he bent forward to take in his dick. Sarkan immediately flinched away the second he felt Solya’s hands brush against the back of his neck. 

   “No,” Sarkan said firmly, “I can’t do it.”

   Solya sighed and sank fully onto the floor. The older wizard started up at the ceiling before brightening up.

   “Well, there is something else we can do,” he said. 

   Shock jilted Sarkan’s spine as Solya pressed his mouth against his. Though confused, Sarkan was admittedly curious and followed his lead, opening his mouth when Solya swiped his tongue between his lips. As Solya’s tongue swept through Sarkan’s mouth, one of his hands rested on the back of Sarkan’s neck, despite his wariness, and the other settled on Sarkan’s crotch. Sarkan was vaguely aware of Solya palming him but he flinched and broke the kiss when he felt Solya’s cold hand wrap around his dick. Sarkan hadn’t even felt Solya undo his laces. 

   “Wait,” Sarkan protested then faltered as Solya pulled apart the clasps of his tunic and circled his nipples through his shirt until they were pert. When Solya laid him down and grinded his hips into Sarkan’s, Sarkan repeated his protest a little more forcefully, putting his hands on his chest. “What are you doing?”

    “Just setting the mood,” Solya responded huskily, having already spent himself a second time on Sarkan’s stomach. His fingers dipped down Sarkan’s spin and circled round to his inner thigh before he coaxed Sarkan onto his stomach. The hard wooden floor of the closet made Sarkan’s ribs and hips ache. It was only when Solya pressed up against him, his firm mass rubbing up against Sarkan’s ass, that Sarkan’s mind clicked the pieces together. He bucked against Solya, causing the older wizard to suck in a sharp breath. 

   “She’ll catch us,” Sarkan pleaded, trying to think up an excuse as Solya thumbed his entrance and lined himself up. “We don’t have time–”

   Sarkan’s word caught in his throat as Solya pushed in. The ball of light high above them sputtered. “It’s better this way,” Solya said, adjusting himself with smaller thrusts that made Sarkan gasp. “If they do catch us, she’ll be too busy questioning our relationship than who took her potion.” There was a smirk lacing Solya’s voice as he said, ”Besides, I’ve always wanted to prove I’m better at love making than you.” 

   Sarkan bit down on his thumb to keep from retorting in case he moaned instead as Solya slid in and out of him. Even with his saliva coating Solya’s dick and all the slick Solya could spell on it, Sarkan found himself having a hard time adjusting. Before he could ask, or rather beg for Solya to slow down, to be gentler, Solya came down on the spot deep inside him that made Sarkan see stars. A high moan tore through Sarkan before he could stop it. 

   A deliriously thrilled chuckle came from Solya and he lifted Sarkan’s hips ever so slightly off the ground just so he could hit the same spot with every jerk of his hips. Sarkan’s growl fell short into a series of whimpers. 

   Sarkan could feel Solya orgasm in him, feel the seed push out and drip down his thighs as Solya pulled out to the tip and slam into him again with a sigh.

   "Maybe I should have picked up a girl instead," Solya lamented.

   "I didn't ask you to fuck me," Sarkan snapped back with as much bite as he could muster. 

   Before Solya could make some snide comment, he stopped and straightened. Instead of asking questions, Sarkan took relief in the moment of stillness to accommodate to the older man. That was until Solya pulled out and dragged Sarkan behind the boxes and onto his lap. His hand clamped over Sarkan’s mouth just as the door to the closet swung wide open. 

   “Gale,” a sterner, older voice warned. It was Alosha. “Don’t you think you’ve tormented the servants enough with your destruction?”

   “You know just as well as I do Solya’s been eyeing up my luck potions for months,” a higher, reedier voice shrieked. The Wren. “The second I find that bastard–” Both Sarkan and Solya winced at the cracking of knuckles. 

   The ridge of Solya’s hip was digging into Sarkan’s back and he shifted uncomfortably, accidentally rubbing up against Solya’s erection and causing the other to take a sharp breath. The voices in the hall quieted. 

   “What is that?” the Wren asked. Sarkan suddenly remembered the ball of light a little too late. “Someone’s here,” the Wren said, confirming his dread. Her voice was closer now, coming into the room. Soon they would be found. 

   “That looks like Sarkan’s spell work,” Alosha commented, still in the hall. It ended with a note of exasperation, the same tone she used whenever she was forced to chide Sarkan about soiling one too many of the court’s sheets.

   Solya’s hands gripped Sarkan’s hips, lifting him up. Before he could stop him, Solya slammed up into Sarkan, causing him to yelp.  

   At once there was a scrambling of feet, a quick mutter of apology overlaying a disgusted grunt from Alosha, and the door slamming shut. 

   “Thank the gods for your reputation,” Solya whispered in relief and wonder as Sarkan quickly detached himself from him. “Though,” Solya continued, eyeing Sarkan up, “I can’t tell which one’s at work– your integrity or your bed-hopping.”

   Sarkan decided then and there that he really, really didn’t care for Solya. 


End file.
